Friendship Isn't Magic
by Dymaxion Chronofile
Summary: Who even liked snow days, anyway? It was cold, wet, snowy, icy, cold...it sucked! (Platonic Stolenshipping, old fic)


Honestly, it's an upload of a fic I did last year, but I thought this account needed an update, so I'm putting this up! It's Zexal Secret Santa 2012, but I had a lot of fun, despite being like 'what' about something to do. The prompt was something like 'Yuma and either Kaito or Shark duelling' so I took a new spin on it! Enjoy.

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Yuma wasn't a fan of snow. It was cold, wet, gross, cold, it got everywhere, it was cold, and it just made everything wet. Did he mention it was cold? Snow was only really good for one thing - a sign that Christmas was coming soon. Snow was pretty when you looked at it from the comfort of the indoors, sipping a hot drink. And that was what Yuma did, until he was sent out to get some milk by Akari. After much complaining - and realising he wasn't going to win this one, or win any against her - he decided it was much better for his personal safety to just go out into the cold and get the stupid milk. Though, he honestly thought it would have frozen by the time he got back.

His gloved hands were stuffed in his pockets, burying his face in his warm, fluffy scarf. He felt five years old, but at least he wasn't freezing his butt off! People around him wore lighter clothing, sometimes with no gloves or scarves. How did they not freeze to death? That was something Yuma constantly wondered as he walked. People were really weird, which Astral would have agreed with.

The fresh snow crunched so satisfyingly under his feet. It almost made this dumb trip feel worth it. Though, he knew it wasn't. Akari could have made the trip herself, but _nooo_, get her lackey of a little brother to do it for her. It wasn't fair how she got away with this stuff, but he didn't dare to mention it. Suffering in silence was probably a better idea.

Absorbed in his thoughts, there was no chance Yuma could have noticed his approaching enemy. His head made a perfect target; what a fine day to forget his hat! Before he could have even begun to notice, a snowball was launched full-speed at the back of his head, causing him to lose balance and fall face-first into the snow. _Ow_. He got up as soon as he could and brushed the snow off of him. He was so cold. The snow from the ball trickled down under his clothes and down his back, causing him to yelp and try to get the snow out. It was cold and wet and uncomfortable and gross and oh God someone _get it out_.

"Yuma." The voice caught his attention and distracted him from the snow, which felt a lot warmer, thankfully. It was the voice of his attacker - Ryoga. Oh man, he was gonna beat his butt for this!  
"Shark!" Yuma shouted as he got the rest of the snow out of his hair. Oh, he was definitely going to pay for this. "I'm challenging you to a snowball fight!"  
"You don't know what you're dealing with," he warned, forming another snowball.  
"Let's find out."

The milk had been left forgotten - it wasn't Yuma's best idea to forget what Akari told him to do, especially if it was to fulfil this boys' club mentality thing or to duel, which were both pretty much the same - and the game was started. They both had a minute to build a snowfort, which looked pretty shoddy and they could admit that. The minute was quickly over, by which time, they were both prepared.

It wasn't a snowball fight. It was a snowball _war_. They were so prepared for this, mentally and physically. Snowballs were launched from every angle, and people stood quite a way away in order to not get hit. There were no breaks, no pauses, no sign of stopping. They had to leave the fort to gather more snow, as supplies were getting more and more limited. Though it was risky, it had to be done. Neither Yuma nor Ryoga were ready to admit defeat.

Neither of them had expected a sneak attack from the air or, more specifically, a rooftop. Both of them were hit, Ryoga first, then Yuma. Confused and disoriented, they looked around, searching for the attacker. It took a few moments before Ryoga spotted and identified him.

"Kaito, you coward!" he shouted, forming another snowball. "Come down here and fight like a man!"

Kaito wasn't exactly going to back down from a challenge. There was no way he would have let some teenagers walk all over him, anyway. He had pride, and if he didn't fight them, then they would have mocked him. That was something he would have been fine with avoiding, thank you very much.

Time was lost quite quickly as the battle went on, though it shifted into different forms. They were bored of snowball fights, and instead, settled on trying to build the best snowman by themselves. There was never a winner; the three of them insisted that their own deserved to win. They harassed passers-by for which they thought was the best snowman, and when one was picked, the other two claimed that wasn't fair and asked another. That went on for far too long, much longer than it really needed to go on for.

Finally, they had given up, settling with just laying in the soft, white snow. They were acting half their ages, but none of them really cared. For the first time in a while, they could have just relaxed a little bit. Though, even as the snow began to fall again, they didn't move.

The world felt peaceful. Every single problem melted away as they could have just laid there, watching the world and watching snow fall from the sky, talking about stupid things. It felt like their one chance, and they were going to take it. After this, all three of them had important work to get back to.

From his pocket, Yuma's D-Gazer called for his attention. For a moment, he foolishly thought it would have been Kotori or anyone else. Though, the I.D made his heart stop. Oh no. Akari. He didn't want to answer, but it would have made things worse if he didn't. Swallowing his courage, he answered, the other two's attention also captured by the D-Gazer.

"Yuma Tsukumo, _where have you gone_?"

He knew that tone. And he knew he was going to be in the deepest trouble possible.


End file.
